Wake up and smell the cafe

I walked down to the Mon Cafe today for a cup and was offered a limited-hours position.  This stems from a rainy day trip to the cafe about a week ago when the dire situation of the shop's finances was discussed.  Wanting to stamp out any possibility of my local source of inspiration disappearing and also feeling sorry for it's helpless, frial, Japanese owner, I offered my services, free of charge.  Munami, the aforementioned owner wouldn't stand for this and will be paying me under the table, which is nice.

Today, I learned how to pull shots, make crema and even made roasted bell pepper soup. After all the time I've spent there, it's surreal being on the other side of the counter, being taught the tricks of the Mon Cafe trade.  I have much respect for the cafe workers dealing with my small talk because today I understood how hard it is to remain seemingly engaged when you have something to do.  On the other hand, much of the conversation was indeed pleasant in one way or another.  After all, I'm friends with at least 60% of the clients.  Extra income+slight boost in sense of purpose = hurrah